Copyright January 1, 2000
Follows 'Midsummer's Eve' by a few months.
Ed Straker opened the door to the outer office of Harlington-Straker Studio's CEO and stopped. A slim woman with a generous bosom and shoulder length brown hair was standing in front of Miss Ealand's desk. She wore a smart beige pant suit, brown shoes with a matching oversize leather purse thrown over her shoulder and she looked very familiar.
"I'm here to see Mister Komack," the woman said. The voice keyed in a name to match the body.
"You can go right in," the ever-efficient secretary, Miss Ealand, said, indicating the second door on the wall opposite the entrance. It was the door to the office next to his - the studio's chief operating officer. The woman, Josephine Frazer, nodded a thank you to Miss Ealand and strolled into the indicated office as though she owned it.
"I thought I was the only one you pulled that trick on," Straker said, finally entering the outer office. He stopped in front of the desk.
Janice Ealand smiled up at him. "Chauvinists come in both genders, sir," she said, handing him a file from a pile on her desk.
"Speaking of chauvinists, how's that problem with Mason shaking out?" he asked, placing the file in his briefcase. The file belonged to Supreme Headquarters Alien Defense Organization - SHADO - eighty feet below. Straker, senior officer of the top-secret organization, had little to do with the day to day business of the studios any more.
"We've been fielding a lot of complaints about how he's been treating the rest of his crew," Miss Ealand told him. "If we don't take care of it soon, we may have a strike on our hands."
"I hadn't realized it was that bad," Straker admitted.
Ealand nodded.
"Why doesn't she just fire him, if it's that bad?" he wondered.
"Because you signed a virtually unbreakable contract with him and he owes us one more picture after this one," Ealand reminded him.
"Oh, that. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Up and coming director, two major hits in two years," Straker explained with a smile. "How was I to know he made such extensive use of the casting room couch?"
"And our casting office doesn't even have a couch."
Straker checked his watch. "About how long do you think it will be?"
"When she was here last time, it took about an hour. I expect the same this time," Ealand said. "By the way, I did check out her story. She is working for United News Service now, mostly because of her interview with you."
"With me?" Straker asked, surprised.
"Apparently, the fact she got anything out of you at all impressed the editors over there," Ealand explained. "You have a reputation of being a difficult interview subject."
"I accept the necessity of a free press in free society," Straker said. "But nobody ever said I had to like reporters."
"Yes, sir."
Ealand flipped a switch on her desk and the door to his office slid open. He nodded a thank you and went inside. The doors closed behind him.
He went over to the broad desk in front of the window and flipped open the cigarette box on its surface. "Straker."
"Voice Print identification positive, Commander Straker," the dry, disembodied computer voice announced. Straker flipped a switch on the desk and the room began to go down like the high speed elevator it really was.
Straker sat on the corner of the desk and looked over the papers Miss Ealand had handed him. Routine matters, personnel assignments, evaluations, equipment maintenance and repair due to the heat wave London was suffering. The heat brought storms and storms brought damage to delicate antennas
The elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal the underground complex of SHADO. Straker stepped out and nodded a greeting to the uniformed guard waiting in the hallway.
"Commander, may I speak with you, privately?" Lieutenant Gay Ellis called quietly as he approached the entrance to his real office. The doors slid open automatically and he ushered her inside.
"What is it, Gay?" he asked, settling behind the slate topped desk. He gestured for her to take a seat on one of the benches built into the office corners.
"I have a little problem, sir," Ellis began. She twisted her hands together nervously.
"Yes?"
"The report is probably somewhere in that pile," she said, nodding to the tall pile of files on the desktop.
"Why don't you just tell me what's in it, Lieutenant."
"I'm pregnant."
"I see," Straker commented. "What do you intend to do about it?"
"I don't understand, sir."
"Gay, you are well aware of SHADO's policy concerning mandatory contraception for Moonbase personnel," Straker told her.
"I haven't been on Moonbase for better than three months," Ellis said. "I've been teaching classes for new recruits, sir."
"I know that, and that's the only reason we're even having this discussion," Straker said.
"Yes, sir."
"I assume Mark is the father?"
Ellis nodded. Straker knew that Ellis and Mark Bradley were close. He wasn't surprised to find out they were lovers. He was surprised, however, to find Ellis pregnant. SHADO had high hopes for her. She was bright and capable. Her stint as a trainer was in preparation for bigger things.
"So, what do you intend to do?" he asked.
"I guess that depends. I love Mark."
"Have you told him, yet?"
"I was planning to do that this evening," she said. She looked worried and unhappy.
"Gay, I want you to understand something. The problem is not that you're pregnant. If you choose to have the baby, you'll be assigned duties down here, or put on an extended leave of absence until you're ready to come back to work," he said, choosing his words carefully. "The problem is the timing. We've been under the magnifying glass for some time now. SHADO's recruitment practices, personnel policies, disciplinary review procedures. SHADO's mission requires it to possess so much power, we have a greater capacity for abuse of that power than any group in the world. That means we can't afford to be anything but completely professional and proper. The slightest hint of impropriety would be inviting the wolves in. And they're already baying at the doors."
"I hadn't realized it was that serious," she admitted. "Mark and I had figured that if it didn't affect our job performance it shouldn't matter to anyone else."
"If this were an ideal world, it wouldn't. But it isn't, and it does matter," Straker said.
"What about Colonel Komack?"
"Despite what our records down here may say, I was never her supervisor," Straker said with a smile. "It's a little different with you and Mark."
The office door slid open. Straker looked over to see Alec Freeman walk in.
"Sorry, I didn't know you were busy," the Australian officer said.
"Come in, Alec. Lieutenant Ellis and I were just finished," Straker said. He turned back to Ellis. "Think about it, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir," the young woman murmured. She stood to leave then stopped as if she wanted to say more. She decided against it. "Yes, sir," she said again as she left the office.
"What's going on?" Freeman wondered, watching her go.
"More personnel problems."
"I figured that was my job."
"I figured you had enough on your plate."
"Oh?"
Straker didn't respond. He started looking over the files piled on his desk, the accumulation of a weekend. He picked up the top file and started reading.
"What's happening with that New Zealand situation?" Straker asked after a moment. He didn't look up from his reading.
Freeman went to the liquor dispenser and poured himself a drink. "Prescott's demanding a full disciplinary review on Kazanski. She claims her last performance review was unduly influenced by the fact she refused his sexual advances."
"What does he say about it?"
"He admits to taking her out. He's even admitted to borrowing funds from the base accounts to pay for his little fling. However, he swears his remarks in her performance review had nothing to do with her rejecting him."
"Do you believe him?" Straker asked, finally looking up.
"I honestly don't know. New Zealand's a very small, isolated base. It could be that Kazanski just chose the wrong operative to ask out. Or it could be something more."
Straker nodded, his expression thoughtful and a little worried.
"It's probably just a misunderstanding that's been blown all out of proportion because the base is so small," Freeman said. "Why are you so worried?"
"Prescott registered her complaint with General Henderson and the IAC."
"And Henderson wants answers yesterday," Freeman filled in for himself.
Straker nodded.
"Jackson sent Flora Sauder to handle the investigation. She was one of his protégés. If anyone can get to the bottom of them, she can. She just hasn't had time yet."
"She must have some idea already."
"I talked with her this morning. She says they don't trust her enough to talk to her yet," he reported.
Straker's expression became more troubled. "That bothers me in itself. What are they trying to hide?"
"Maybe they just don't have anything to say," Freeman suggested.
"Alec, they're human beings. Human beings always have something to say."
An alarm sounded in the Control room: "Red Alert..."
Straker and Freeman hurried out of the office.
"Sighting confirmed," Nina Barry announced from the video screen over Ford's station. "Area 014 263. Green."
Behind her, Joan Harrington could be seen seated at her own console: "Interceptors, Immediate launch!"
"Moonbase to control," Barry announced. "Have U.F.O. on positive track. Red 128 041."
SHADO waited. It was in the silence the action took place, when the pilots were too busy to talk.
After a few moments: "Detonation confirmed, U.F.O. destroyed."
"Convey my congratulations to the pilots," Straker instructed.
"Yes, sir," Barry agreed before the screen when blank.
Straker checked his watch. "I suppose I should go up and rescue my C.O.O. from the tender mercies of Miss Josephine Frazer."
"Josephine Frazer? Freeman asked. The name sounded familiar and finally clicked: "The fake reporter?"
"The same," Straker said.
"Why'd you let her in the studio?"
"I didn't," Straker said with more than a little annoyance in his voice.
"This should be interesting," Freeman chuckled.
"I'm glad you think so," Straker groused. But Freeman thought he detected a gleam of amusement in Straker's eyes.
-o-o-o-
The upstairs office doors slid open and Straker left the leather chair he'd occupied only moments before, shuffling papers as though he was finishing up some paper work. It was all for show in the event someone outside of SHADO was waiting for him when the doors opened.
"Still in there?" he asked Ealand as he stepped out of the office.
Ealand nodded, raising one well formed eyebrow and giving Straker a knowing grin.
Returning her grin, he stepped over to the door to the office next to his, taking a moment to brush a speck of dust from the brass name plate beside it: E., Chief of Operations.
He didn't bother to knock as he swung the door open.
Kathryn Komack was seated at her desk, facing the door. Josephine Frazer was sitting opposite the desk in one of the designer chairs Komack had specifically chosen for her office. It was impossible to sit in it for any length of time.
Frazer looked up as the door opened, as if hoping she was about to be rescued from the chair. Her expression brightened as she recognized him: "Mister Straker, I was hoping I'd run into you while I was here. I never did get a chance to thank you for dinner that night. Or for taking care of the repairs to my car."
"Don't worry about it, Miss Frazer," he assured her. "It was a long time ago."
"Yes. But maybe we can catch up on that dessert sometime. The one I didn't get that night at dinner?" She smiled suggestively at him.
"I don't think so, Miss Frazer."
"Pity. It might have been fun." She didn't seem overly disappointed at his rejection but he knew she was watching him closely.
Straker went around Komack's desk to the built-in cabinet under the window. The cabinet had a small bar sink set into it. A coffee maker sat on the tiled top with several mugs, a bowl of sugar and a thermos of cream. He checked the coffee carafe and found it nearly empty. With a faint sigh of resignation, he began to search around for the coffee.
Komack turned and watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to the reporter. The baby kicked and she rubbed her distended belly absently. This one was a lot more active that Esther had been. The delivery date couldn't come soon enough as far as she was concerned. Another four weeks.
"How does Mister Komack feel about you working so late in your pregnancy?" Frazer asked, noting Komack's gesture.
"My father couldn't care less," Komack responded with a grin.
Frazer was openly surprised. "I saw the ring and assumed you were married."
"I am."
"You need to understand, Miss Frazer," Straker said, finally finding the can of coffee. "American women are not obligated to take their husband's name, especially in their professional life. Actually, I don't think any Western woman is obligated to change her name just because she's married." He turned to Komack: "All you have here is decaf."
"Doctor Taylor wants me to lay off the caffeine till after the baby's born," Komack explained. "You could stand a little decaffeination yourself."
"I don't drink and I quit smoking last year," Straker said with a small grin. "I have to have some vices."
Frazer watched the exchange, her brows drawn together in obvious confusion. Finally: "Miss Komack, how does your husband feel about your career?"
"I haven't heard any complaints," she replied. She turned to Straker who was putting the final touches on his coffee preparations. "Have you?"
"Only that he has to cook three nights a week. When he's home at all," Straker said. "He travels a lot," he explained, checking his watch. "Miss Komack, we have an appointment with those new backers in about five minutes."
Frazer took the hint and stood, holding her note pad. Straker noted that her purse was still on the floor, under her chair. "Well, I think that does it, then. Thank you."
She turned to leave, apparently forgetting to pick up her purse.
Straker came around the desk and scooped up the leather bag. He noted that as before there was a microphone fixed to the front flap and tape recorder inside. "Miss Frazer, your purse."
"Oh, thank you, Mister Straker. Silly me, I'm always forgetting it." She took the purse from his hand and slung it over her shoulder as she left the office. Straker closed the door behind her.
"I can see why you had so much trouble with her," Komack said after a moment.
"How was the interview?" He perched on the corner of her desk, knowing what an object of torture the chair was.
Komack shrugged.
"Well, what did she want to know?"
"She was interested in the sudden management restructuring the studio went through last year. How I was chosen to become C.O.O. of Harlington-Straker Studios, that sort of thing. She was very curious as to how you handled the changes made in your absence."
"And what did you tell her?"
Komack grinned. "The same thing I tell everyone. The board's changes were made necessary when you became ill. And you not only accepted the changes they made gracefully, but you made many of them permanent. I make you sound positively saintly."
"Well, I'm glad somebody's working on my P.R.," Straker said, returning her grin.
"I figured it came with the territory."
That brought a chuckle. He stepped closer to her, leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. "You smell good. You sure we have to show up to that party tonight?
"Positive. It's their fiftieth anniversary. We have to be there," Komack said.
"Maybe we can leave early," he suggested.
"With our luck there'll be an alert tonight," she said with a resigned sigh.
"Don't even say it. We had one an hour ago," he explained. "Nina cleaned it up fast. Things have been pretty quiet the last couple days"
"Be nice if it could stay that way."
"It won't," Straker said. "I suppose I should go back to work."
"The party's at seven," she reminded him. "I should be done here about five. Oh, and Aunt Amanda called and said Uncle Jim wanted you to show up in uniform."
"Why?"
"She didn't say, but she was very insistent on it. I rather suspect Uncle Jim wants to show you off to his buddies from JCS. She said a lot of American brass was planning to show up tonight."
"Just what I need, a whole bunch of American brass on our doorstep," Straker groused.
"At least they're only here for a party, not your hide," Komack said.
"Thank God for small favors," Straker said. "I'll meet you at home and we'll go together."
"The two of us showing up at the same place at the same time? Unheard of," she said with a grin.
"You knew the job was dangerous when you took it," said Straker, returning her grin.
"And fool that I am I love you anyway."
He leaned over and kissed her, first gently, then with passion. Neither of them really wanted to go back to work.
-o-o-o-
"How'd Kate make out?" Freeman asked when Straker finally reappeared in SHADO's Control Room.
"No problem," Straker told him. "Oh, by the way, Henderson wants me in uniform tonight. And if I have to, so do you."
Freeman's jaw dropped. "Why does he want you in uniform?"
"I wish I knew," Straker admitted. "Apparently a bunch of brass from the States is showing up for the party."
"Maybe we'll have a major alert tonight and we'll have an excuse not to show," Freeman said, only half joking.
"I don't think the aliens will oblige us with an attack large enough to get me off the hook. Or you either."